


A Test of Loyalty

by detectivejigsaw



Category: Psych
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys in danger, Bromance, Danger, Drama, Gen, Hinted Shules, Hurt/Comfort at the end, Kidnapped Gus, Shawn and Gus fighting, between season 5 and season 6, new villain, post-Yang 3 in 2D
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2018-12-10 03:58:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11683554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/detectivejigsaw/pseuds/detectivejigsaw
Summary: Shawn thought Gus was ignoring him because of the huge fight they'd just had.  He could not be more wrong.No slash.





	1. Prologue

“...You must be out of your d___ mind if you think that’s gonna happen,” Gus growled, glaring at the other side of the bulletproof glass (though Shawn could see his hands trembling slightly, betraying how afraid he really was).  He leaned against the table, deliberately not looking at what had been placed on it.

“Oh, I’m sure that I am,” their captor said with a small, kind of disturbing giggle.  “But you will do it.  Because if you don’t-” Shawn felt the sudden pressure only a cold pistol barrel against the back of his skull could bring- “pop goes the weasel.”


	2. Be Kind, Rewind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We learn just how Shawn and Gus got into this little pickle.

**Wait, wait, wait.**

**Sorry, that was a horrible way to open the story.  There’s so many loose ends, so many unanswered questions.  Not to mention it’s a sadistic cliffhanger that gets the reader’s attention in a cruel way.  BWA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!!!  HA-HA-HA-**

**Ahem.  Sorry.**

**Let’s go back a bit.**

* * *

 

**1987, Santa Barbara.**

Henry Spencer’s house.

Ten-year-old Shawn storms up to his room, nose bleeding, cheek bruised, carrying half of a ripped comic book.  He is never talking to Gus again.  And I mean  never.

 

**No, sorry, that’s too far back.**

**Let’s scroll ahead a few years…**

“I got the information because...I am psychic!”

 

**A little more, please…**

**Okay.  Here we are, an hour and a half before where we started.**

* * *

Shawn sat in his office, savagely blasting the heads off pixelated zombies on his laptop.  His normal mischievous grin (or the sneer he sometimes used because he thought it made him look sexy) was replaced by a rather intense glare definitely not born of concentration on the game, and a slight flush colored his neck and ears, a tell-tale sign that he was genuinely angry.

 _Stupid Gus.  You think I behave like a child-I’ll show_ you _who’s behaving like a child!  I’m not the one who’s been refusing to pick up his phone because we had one stupid little argument._

This time he had gone too far.   Way  too far.  Even if he started answering his phone again and stopped being too proud to talk to the guy who was supposed to be his  BEST FRIEND  since they were five just because of a few harsh words, Shawn wasn’t going to take him back.  Even if he begged him.  They’d crossed the line this time.  He was done with Gus.  Done, done, done.

_Screw you, Gus.  I don’t need you._

…

….

 _Gus, where are you?  Come back, please.  At least let me_ try _to fix this._

* * *

 

This was the biggest fight he could remember them having in years.  It had been one of those weeks where it seemed like everything kept going wrong-with cases, with Shawn’s relationship with his father, with their attempts to get their bills paid on time-basically everything.  And eventually, he guessed, all that resulting frustration had just boiled over, resulting in what had to be the shouting match of the century.

What made it really sad was that it started with something that shouldn’t have been a cause for wrath: Shawn commenting that they were out of Red Vines while looking through the office snack cupboard, and that Gus should put them on his shopping list.  Gus had slammed his laptop shut, and snapped that Shawn should buy his own d___ Red Vines, because Gus was not his personal valet and didn’t have to be responsible for buying his junk food.

Shawn, surprised by the acerbity of the verbal attack, responded in kind by reminding Gus that he, as he so often loved to point out, was the one with the “real” job, and that should automatically make him the one who bought  their  junk food.  Gus retorted that it was mainly Shawn’s junk food, which was why he’d been getting so fat lately, and probably part of the reason why he’d had so much trouble figuring out who the culprit was on their last case, because all the fat had gotten into his brain.  Incensed, and hurt by the unexpected new twist, Shawn pointed out that he could still find clues Gus wouldn’t notice if they bit him in the-

Well, you get the idea.

 

The fight escalated quickly, ending with Shawn saying, “Well, if you think I’m such an impossible person to work with, maybe you should just leave!”

“Fine!  I quit!”

Shawn froze, having not expected to ever hear those words leave his friend’s mouth (at least, not when addressing him; he’d all but promised that would never happen).  Gus looked equally shocked, and his mouth flapped for a second, looking like he was about to take them back.  But of course the ‘psychic’s’ mouth wanted to have the last word, so he snarled, “Fine!  I don’t need you anyway!”

His jaw dropping in pain at this further betrayal, Gus retorted, “Fine!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

Gus then snatched up his things, and stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind him.  After a few seconds he stormed back in, grabbed up the laptop which he’d almost forgotten on the table, and stormed out again, this time slamming the door so hard it would have knocked pictures off the wall, if there’d been any.  And Shawn stood there, blood pounding in his ears, not quite able to believe that they’d just destroyed one of the best things that ever happened to them.

* * *

 

For a while he was certain that this wasn’t really happening.  Gus would come back soon enough, and apologize for flying off the handle like that (and, if he was honest with himself, he needed to apologize too).  But when the chief called about a new case with some bank getting robbed, and Gus not only didn’t answer the phone when Shawn called to try to bring him along, but also ignored his text and wasn’t at his place or the pharmaceutical company when he went to look for him (though it was Saturday, so he probably wouldn’t be working there anyway), he realized that maybe he was serious.

By the next day, when Gus had still not answered any of the twenty-six text messages or thirty phone calls Shawn had made to his phone, he became angry at his friend’s childish behavior, and decided he would wait for Gus to come to him.  He’d show him that he didn’t actually need him tagging along all the time, especially if he wasn’t going to be there when  he  needed him.  Fine.  See if he cared.  Maybe he wouldn’t even let him come back to Psych, if he was so eager to believe that he could do without it.

Unfortunately, Shawn had been so busy stewing that he couldn’t concentrate on the case, and eventually he was forcibly ejected from the crime scene with an order to come back when he was able to provide something useful.  So he’d gone home, ignoring Juliet’s concerned expression and Lassiter’s jibe that apparently he “couldn’t function without Guster” or something.

Now, it appeared that he’d skipped the ‘bargaining’ stage altogether, and was wavering somewhere between anger and depression.

In hindsight, this lack of response from Gus, and the fact that he hadn’t even been able to find the Blueberry, should have been far more disquieting than it was at the time.

* * *

 

Finally, with a sigh, he finished blasting a zombie, and sent another text to Gus.

_Look, man, talk to me, please?  I’m sorry about what I said.  Really.  :(_

For two minutes he stared at the phone, willing it to light up with a response; then, suddenly, to his relief, it did.  Shawn opened it eagerly.

_Hi Shawn.  I’m sorry, but Gus doesn’t really have access to his phone right now.  You’ll have to come and find him.  Quickly.  Preferably before three o’clock. Preferably without that obnoxious beanpole detective, or any other cops.  In fact, no fair bringing in anyone else; it would be really bad for Gus.  But a bouquet of one dozen long-stemmed red roses would be nice, don’t you think? :)_


	3. Shawn buys Gus a bouquet (sort of)

Shawn stared at his phone, trying to process what this meant for a moment. As soon as the shock wore off, his initial instinct was to call his father. But he understood the implications of the text well enough to know that Gus’s life was being threatened if he did.

Holy crap, Gus’s _life_ was being threatened! And he’d been so stupid not to figure it out sooner; that was undoubtedly why he hadn’t been answering his phone, or why he hadn’t even been in his apartment, and Shawn had just assumed he was hiding and sulking instead of putting the pieces together and realizing he was in danger, stupid stupid STUPID-  
_Okay, calm down. It's not the first time this has happened. And it’s too late to worry about what you should or shouldn’t have done. Just find the clues so you can go and rescue him._

  
Squinting at the text, Shawn focused in on the last sentence.  
_A bouquet of one dozen long-stemmed red roses…generally used as a romantic gesture, especially around Valentine's Day._  
_Is that an attempt to flirt with me?_  
_Please, no. Not another Yang._  
_It might not be that, since it’s the middle of June. I mean, they could still mean it as a romantic gesture, but I think it means something else. I think it’s... a clue about the destination. I remember reading about something like that recently..._  
Shawn opened a new window on his computer, and began hurriedly searching Santa Barbara for any places that had to do with flowers.

* * *

 

It was too easy.  
_The Red Bouquet. A nightclub by the wharf, doubling as a restaurant that’s popular for couples, because it has a Valentine's theme._  
_Well, I guess I know where I'm going. Even though it's probably a trap._  
_Who am I kidding? It's totally a trap._  
_But I’m going anyway, aren't I?_  
_Of course I am._

The cashier smiled and asked if Shawn was seeing a lady friend tonight as she rang up the roses. Shawn just smiled back, with a touch of brittleness, and said, “Possibly.”  
Then he rushed to the Red Bouquet.

* * *

 

It was twenty minutes until three; with any luck he could have some time to scout out the area, and maybe surprise the kidnapper. Though it was possible that the kidnapper had also anticipated this and was already lying in wait…  
Once again Shawn wondered if maybe he should have gotten backup. But being Shawn, he kept going as he was (honestly, is anyone surprised?).


	4. Shawn Buys Frozen Yogurt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geez, you guys are a tough audience. Well, maybe having you actually meet the one responsible for all this mayhem will inspire something.

The club was your typical wooden structure, with red Chinese lanterns hanging in front that were apparently lit up at night, a patio in back overlooking the ocean (with tables set up for people who wanted to eat out there), and (of course) a huge neon sign on the roof shaped a lot like the bouquet now clenched in Shawn’s hand. He wished Gus was here so they could make some snide commentary about being in the red light district. But to get a chance to do that, he had to go inside.

  
Shawn stepped through the doorway, only to be bombarded by Frank Sinatra’s “I've Got the World on a String” and the smell of expensive perfume. Blinking his eyes at the sudden influx of darkness, the detective instantly began examining the number of people inside.  
There were only twenty people in the club, since apparently business wouldn’t start getting good until evening. A few of them were black (none of them, to his disappointment, was the one he was looking for); at least half of them were couples. There were only two hats in the room, both belonging to women worried about getting sunburned-  
Shawn shrugged irritably at himself for falling back into the habits instilled by his father. He went on surveying the people, moving out of the doorway when he saw that some were giving him curious stares, and observed the single people.  
 _That one’s waiting for her boyfriend to get back from the bathroom...that one has been eating Cheetos for the past two hours, probably using them as comfort food...that guy just lost his job, and came because he likes the ambiance-whoa, hold up._  
A redheaded woman in a green sweater and jeans seated at a corner table was staring at him, and now waving him over with a big smile. Shawn started to take a step back-she probably thought he was a blind date or something because of the stupid flowers-but then he looked at her other hand, and his gut clenched. Because resting under her fingers, recognizable to the ‘psychic’ even from this far away, were the keys to the Blueberry.

“Hi!” she chirped when he walked over and sat down across from her.  
“Hey,” Shawn replied, putting on his most falsely flirtatious smile. “You alone?” Inwardly, though, he was scanning her intensely. He’d learned, after their final encounter with Yin and Yang, not to be thrown off by a pretty or innocent-looking girl-at least, he hoped he had-and looking at this one, he could see a few signs that she was not all she appeared to be. No make up, nails unusually long and unevenly cut, something just a little too manic about her eyes. Oh, and the fact that she had _Gus’s freaking keys_ in her hand and was now caressing them possessively.  
“Not anymore,” she said happily as he set the roses between them on the table. “Do you want anything?”  
“Nah, I ate earlier.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table in a complete breach of etiquette. “I mostly came because I’m worried about a friend of mine, and I think you might know where he is.”  
The smile widened for a second. “Oh, Mr. Guster? Yeah, sure. He’s over at my place. I’m glad you came early, by the way; he was worried about you.”  
Shawn blinked in mock surprise. “He was thinking about me, when he had you to keep him company? That doesn’t sound like Gus.”  
The woman giggled. “Aww, you think I’m pretty? That’s so sweet!”  
“...Can we go get him now? He needs to get back to work by Monday.”  
She didn’t answer, choosing instead to pick up the bouquet and dig through it.  
“You didn’t even try to plant a tracking device?” she finally asked in a disappointed tone. “I would have at least expected a tracking device.”  
“Maybe I didn’t put it in the flowers. Care to search me?”  
Ruby, as he decided to call her until or unless he found out her real name (and honestly, he might keep calling her Ruby even after that; the red hair made it appropriate somehow), stuck out her tongue at him.  
“No.” Then Shawn felt a pressure against his stomach, which turned out upon his glancing down to be the muzzle of a gun. Ruby went on, “And for his sake, I hope you don’t have one.”  
Somehow, none of the other customers appeared to be noticing anything. It was maddening how unobservant people could be sometimes.  
The gun prodded him slightly. “Shall we go find your friend now? He’s probably lonely.”  
Shawn nodded. “Sure.”  
“Good. Bring the flowers.”

* * *

They walked out of the restaurant, arm in arm, Ruby’s gun having slid into the safety of her purse, but her spare hand thrust inside as a message that she could still shoot with it. Shawn had the now-rather-crumpled bouquet in his free hand.  
“It’s not far,” she assured him with another sunny smile. “Come on. And don’t worry about your bike; I doubt anyone will steal it.”  
“...We’re not driving?”  
She snorted. “You think I’d be arrogant enough to bring Mr. Guster’s car here where anyone could notice it? Too conspicuous. Even if it’s no longer retrofitted like you had it that one time.”  
Shawn’s gut clenched again, as he asked casually, “You know a lot about my cases, huh?”  
“Oh yeah. It’s very exciting. You two are really great detectives. Though whether or not you’re a real psychic is questionable.”  
It was Shawn’s turn to snort. “Everyone says that.”  
“Yeah, but the existence of psychics is questionable at best. I think you’re just really, really good at what you do, and cover it up in a shroud of mysticism so people won’t think you’re involved in the crimes or something. But if you want to call it being psychic, hey, who am I to judge?”  
Ruby suddenly jerked him across the street, with far more strength than a young woman of her size and build should have, and over to a frozen yogurt stand.  
“Ooh, they have raspberry!” she squealed excitedly. “I love raspberry!” Without even looking at Shawn, she ordered a large cone of frozen yogurt. When it was filled, Shawn noticed that the vendor was looking at him expectantly.  
“...What?”  
“Oh, sorry, you’re not going to pay for your girlfriend?”  
As he started to splutter angrily, Ruby giggled. “He’s cheap like that. It’s okay, I can pay for my own yogurt.”  
Her hand started to reach back into her purse…  
“No, that’s fine, I’ll pay for it.” And Shawn (with some relief) let go of her arm, and dug his wallet out of his pocket.

* * *

“...You thought I was going to shoot him over yogurt?” Ruby asked as they walked away, eyes widening before licking her treat.  
“The thought did cross my mind.”  
She gave him a look. “I’m not Mr. Yin, Shawn. Sheesh.”  
“Are we almost there?” Shawn demanded impatiently, still racking his brains for some kind of plan.  
“Just across the street.” Ruby pointed over at a relatively nice-looking house; through the windows on the garage door, he could barely make out a certain blue car we all know and love.  
The tip of her purse prodded him in the back. “After you.”


	5. Ruby Makes an Ultimatum

“Shawn!” Gus exclaimed when he saw his best friend walk into the room with the woman behind him, gun now fully removed from the purse now that there was no need for secrecy. He jumped to his feet from the bed he’d been sitting on and came right up to the glass window-

* * *

**Sorry again, I should explain what the room looked like.**

* * *

It was basically a regular bedroom on the second floor, with a bed, a chair, an end table, and two doors, except that there was a huge glass window right down the middle, dividing it into two separate parts. Shawn realized that it was bulletproof.  
 _Who puts bulletproof glass in their house? Who can_ afford _to put bulletproof glass in their house?_  
The door on Gus’s side of the room had the hinges on the outside, and several pieces of broken furniture on the floor nearby. That, combined with the pieces of bloody cloth wound around Gus’s knuckles, told Shawn that his friend had tried to break down the door, only succeeding in hurting himself.

  
He gave Gus his best smile. “Hey, buddy. So this is where you’ve been since Friday, huh? Shacking up with a strange woman-tsk tsk, I thought you’d abandoned me.”  
Gus rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t my fault. She drugged me and brought me here.”  
“How? Does she have a hired thug of some kind, because she doesn’t seem to have quite the upper-body strength-”  
“I’m stronger than I look,” Ruby interrupted. “Besides, drugging someone doesn’t necessarily mean making them unconscious. People just thought I was making sure my boyfriend didn’t drive drunk.”  
“Why?” Shawn demanded as he was pushed into the chair and his wrists were zip-tied to the arms (giving him an uncomfortable feeling of deja vu), the flowers carelessly tossed to the floor.  
“Because he was slightly drunk when I found him, and that made it seem more convincing.”  
“No, why did you take him?” Though he suspected he already knew the answer.  
“Because I needed to get you here as quickly as possible.” She looked over at Gus as she finished the cone, crunching it between her teeth. “Hold on a sec.”

Once she'd finished, she went to the wall near the door, and pushed on part of it.  A few seconds later, a panel in the floor on Gus's side of the room slid open, revealing a box.

"Would you get that, please?" she asked Gus.

  
Gus retrieved the box, setting it on the table next to the glass gingerly.  
“Open it,” said Ruby. Seeing his dubious expression, she said in a reassuring tone, “Don’t worry, it’s not a bomb or anything.”  
Hesitantly, Gus obeyed her, drawing out a very nice handgun which appeared to be a twin of the one in Ruby’s hand. And he seemed about to try turning it on Ruby, before he realized, like Shawn had, that the glass was bulletproof (and Shawn felt the tiniest bit proud of him for figuring it out so quickly). So instead he asked, “What am I supposed to do with this?”  
“Oh, isn’t it obvious?” Ruby sounded surprised. “You’re going to kill yourself.”

* * *

The gun dropped from Gus’s numb fingers back into the box.  
“Personally, I’d advise aiming here-” she tucked her own gun under her chin- “or here-” she tucked the barrel into her mouth for a second. “They're a lot quicker than anywhere else, and while there'll be a bit of a mess to clean up afterwards, at that point it'll no longer be your problem.  But you better choose quick.”  
“...You must be out of your d___ mind if you think that’s gonna happen,” Gus growled, glaring through the window (though Shawn could see his hands trembling slightly, betraying how afraid he really was). He leaned against the table, deliberately ignoring the box and the gun inside.  
“Oh, I’m sure that I am,” Ruby said with a small, kind of disturbing giggle. “But you will do it. Because if you don’t-” Shawn felt the sudden pressure only a cold pistol barrel against the back of his skull could bring- “pop goes the weasel.”

  
“...Really?” Shawn demanded, ignoring the way his stomach lurched and a chill rushed up and down his spine. “You’re doing that? That is so the finale of season two of _Sherlock._ Except you’re doing it to my sidekick instead of me.”  
“I am not your sidekick, Shawn!” Gus snapped.  
“Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery,” said Ruby with a shrug. Then she clicked the safety off. “And good try at keeping me distracted, but no.”  
“No, wait!” Gus picked up the gun again, slowly turning it around in his hands.

  
“No no no no, Gus, no, bad boy, put that down!” Shawn demanded, lurching forward in his chair in sudden panic. “Don’t you remember, I can’t watch you die! Gus, please!”  
Gus looked at him solemnly for a long moment, saying everything with his eyes that he had the last time his life was in danger, at Mr. Yin’s hands.  
 _I don’t blame you._  
 _You’re my best friend._  
 _I’m sorry._  
He whispered softly, “My sister is still off limits, Shawn.” Then he tucked the barrel under his chin, squeezed his eyes shut, and pulled the trigger.

* * *

Juliet was becoming worried now, after Shawn had been forced to leave the crime scene. She headed for the office after work to see if Shawn was okay, and if there was anything she could do to help; it seemed like something had happened between him and Gus, which was a serious problem. It was always a horrible thing when two friends as close as they were got in a fight. And besides, he was her (somewhat) secret boyfriend now; she had a right to be concerned for him.

  
Her heart leaped into her mouth when she instead found a note on the door, scrawled in Shawn’s anxious handwriting: _Someone’s kidnapped my partner, out getting him back. Please call again._  
In another moment she’d dialed Lassiter, and was speeding off on the trail.


	6. And Now, Back to Our Program

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I finally got a review. I'm done sulking.

_Click._

  
There was a long moment as Shawn processed the fact that he wasn’t seeing his best friend’s blood and brains spraying the air. Gus didn’t seem to believe it just yet; he opened his eyes in confusion and pulled the trigger a few more times. Once he fully registered that he wasn’t being killed, he slowly lowered the gun onto the table.  
“ Psych!” Ruby yelled, before dissolving into a fit of guffaws.

  
Eventually, she straightened up and wiped her eyes. “Sorry, I’ve been waiting all day for a chance to say that-”  
“What the-” Shawn spewed several good words, until he finally ran out of breath. “Why did you do that?!”  
“To teach you to not take him for granted, you ingrate!” she snapped at him. “You treat him like dirt, and don’t even appreciate how much you need him in your life, or how you could easily lose him if you’re not careful!”  
“Wha-” And then, in that flash that happens whenever he suddenly gets a ‘psychic’ epiphany, Shawn realized what had happened.  
_People just thought I was making sure my boyfriend didn’t drive drunk..._  
_Because he was slightly drunk when I found him…_  
_Ruby’s fingers playing with Gus’s keys…_  
“You went out and got drunk after our fight,” Shawn said aloud, looking at his friend and secretly reveling in the immense relief that _Gus was not dead_. “She happened to be at the bar you went to, and you talked to her about what happened-” his head whipped around to face Ruby- “and then you kidnapped him and set this all up and made it look like Gus would have to shoot himself to save me _just to teach me a lesson_?!”  
Thoughtfully tapping the gun against one hand for a moment, Ruby finally grinned and nodded.  
“That’s about it, yeah.”  
“... Why?!”  
“Well, I considered poison, but the Super Sniffer might have recognized that it wouldn’t have been real. It was too risky.”  
“Why do it at all?! Who asked you to butt in on our business?!”  
Ruby leaned forward, until she was almost eye to eye with Shawn. “You’re the psychic. You figure it out.”

  
Straightening up, she placed Shawn’s and Gus’s phones on the floor near the glass wall, and then added Gus’s keys and a pair of large, sharp scissors.  
“Bye, guys,” she beamed. Glancing at Gus, she added, “You’ll find the key to your door in the mattress.” Then she blew him a kiss, and left the room, shutting the door carefully behind her.

  
As soon as she was gone, Gus wasted no time in digging the key out of the mattress, unlocking the door, and almost going to see to Shawn first, but on an instinct he instead looked for the redheaded woman, to see if he could trap her before she escaped. But there was no sign of her. So instead he returned to Shawn’s side of the room, and began cutting the zip ties.  
“What is it with you and crazy women?” Shawn asked after a moment of silence.  
He was concerned when Gus didn’t answer, and even more concerned when instead his friend’s hands started trembling violently, causing him to nearly nick Shawn’s wrist as he tried to cut the final zip tie.  
“Hey, hey.” With a touch of hesitation and some embarrassment, he put his free arm around Gus’s shoulders. “It’s okay. We’re both alive. Though I think we need to have a talk about your willingness to throw your life away. Maybe we should find you a therapist-”  
“I’m not going to watch you die if I can prevent it, Shawn. Never.”

The clipped tone, more than anything, made Shawn shut up for once in his life. And as soon as the other tie was cut, he instead put his other arm around Gus, squeezing for a moment and letting him lean his face in his shoulder, until the trembling stopped and his breathing returned to normal.

 

Then he stood up, massaging his sore wrists, and said softly, “Thanks, buddy.”  
Gus shrugged, rubbing his nose on his sleeve. “What are friends for?”  
“Yeah. And I’m sorry about what I said earlier. All of it.”  
“Oh, now you say that, when our lives are no longer in danger? That makes me question your sincerity.” But a tiny smile cracked his friend’s face. For now, he was okay, and Shawn was forgiven.  
“That is so not fair. You’re the ingrate, not me!”  
“You don’t even know what that means!”  
“Do too!”  
“Do not.”  
“Do too!”  
“Fine, what’s it mean?”  
“...”  
Gus smirked. “My point exactly.”  
Shawn rolled his eyes, and threw an arm around Gus’s shoulders as they gathered their things. “I wonder how we’re going to explain this to Juliet and Lassie…”


	7. Epilogue

Juliet and Lassiter managed to trace Shawn’s bike to The Red Bouquet, and from there to the frozen yogurt vendor who’d sold a raspberry cone fifteen minutes before to a guy matching their photo of him, in the company of a pretty redhead (Juliet felt a slight rush of jealousy, but she knew that Shawn wouldn’t lie about something like Gus being in danger.  Probably).  They raced in the direction he indicated, and entered a residential district.

 

Lassiter swore.  “They could be in any one of these houses!  It’ll take forever to find them!”

By a stroke of luck, Juliet turned her head in just the right direction, and then asked, “What about the house with the blue car in the garage?”

* * *

The door crashed open, and the two detectives stormed in, guns ablazing.

“Police!  Freeze!”  Lassiter roared.

“ _Aaaaaaahhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!_ ”

 

Two familiar, disturbingly girly screams assaulted their ears, and after a second Lassiter lowered his gun in disgust at the sight of the two familiar menaces to the SBPD.

“Hi, Lassie,” said Shawn after a second.  “Hey, Jules.  I got you some flowers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's that. I kind of feel like there's room for a sequel, especially because it's really fun to write Ruby and her "looney cheerful" personality, as one of my reviewers on fanfiction.net described her, but haven't come up with any particular ideas yet. I am open to suggestions/thoughts/people who might want to come up with their own sequel.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this; I certainly enjoyed writing it.


End file.
